This Savage Heart (16 page)

She fell to her knees and prayed, allowing the tears to come in full measure. When she got to her feet she knew no feeling of comfort.

Chapter Fourteen

“She’s going to die, isn’t she?”

They were sitting on a jutting rock, overlooking the campsite in the late afternoon. Below, the circled wagons looked like a pen of great white seabirds, about to spring skyward.

Myles was clasping Julie’s hand, every shred of hope in his touch. His eyes were tightly closed.

The word worked its way from her constricted throat. “Yes.” It sounded like a gasp held back until there was no choice but to let it out. “Yes, Myles. I’m afraid she is.” She wouldn’t lie to Myles.

He pressed her hand to his cheek. “I can’t go on if she dies. I swear, I can’t. Everything in the past, no matter how bad it all was, is nothing compared to this.” He continued to talk, and Julie let him go on.

“She asked to hold the baby, and when I gave him to her, she looked like an angel…like a holy angel holding that baby. It was like the two of them were going to rise up any second and disappear straight into the sky. But it was eerie, like she was already dead and she wasn’t holding the boy, she was holding
her
instead.” He folded their still-clasped hands beneath his chin. “Then she smiled the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen. And she cradled the baby and fell asleep and hasn’t woken since…” His voice cracked.

Julie drew her hand away to fling her arms around her brother. They held each other tightly as they cried.

When their sobs were spent, Myles straightened, pushing her gently aside. Then, staring off into the sunset, he declared, “I knew about them—Father and Aunt Adelia.” Julie stared at him, shocked. “I figured you knew, too, that you weren’t telling me for the same reason I wasn’t telling you. If you didn’t know, I didn’t want you hurt.”

“How did you find out?” she asked.

“I was coming down the back stairs one day and saw them kissing in the shadows. They didn’t see me, probably never knew I knew. That’s why Uncle Nigel killed him. He found out.”

Julie hastened to point out, “That was never proven, Myles.”

“I know, I know.” He sardonically waved away her protest. “Father was shot off his horse when he was coming back from town. Ambushed. But the fact remains that he and Uncle Nigel had an argument earlier in some tavern on the waterfront. Nobody seemed to know what it was about. But after Uncle Nigel disappeared that night—never to be seen again—it was pretty obvious to everybody what had happened. He killed Father and ran away. It all fits together even if you and I
didn’t
know he had a damn good motive. Nobody ever said anything to Mother because they felt sorry for her, but you know something?” He looked at her sharply. “I think she knew.”

Julie did not respond. She hated the subject, but if it took Myles’s mind off his present heartache, then so be it.

“Yeah, she knew,” he continued, more to himself than to her. “She had to. I think Thomas knew, too.” He paused a moment before declaring, “He loves you, you know.”

Julie nodded slowly. Yes, she knew her cousin loved her, and maybe, had there not been the awful realization of his mother having an affair with her father, she and Thomas might have loved. The truth had stood between them, and it was just as well, for she knew her heart was destined for Derek.

“It’s been hell, you know it?” His laugh was short, bitter. “Our lives have been terrible, and you know that’s the truth.”

She remained silent and he said, “I wish I could die with her.” His voice broke, and his head dropped to his chest, body heaving.

At last, his sister spoke. “It’s not over yet, Myles. You’ve still got your beautiful son. If Teresa dies, she will live on in him, and you’ve got to cling to that and remember it through the hard times.

“As for our lives being wretched,” she said, “you’ve got to think of the happy times, the loving times, the good hours.”

He looked up thoughtfully and slowly, a sad, little smile coming to his lips. “Teresa said if it was a boy, she wanted to name him for me, but I don’t want that. So we agreed to name him for her father and our father. He’ll be Darrell Jerome Marshall. How do you like that?” His lips were curved in an attempt at joy, but his eyes were tormented and grieving.

She liked the name and said so.

“We were going to name it after you if it was a girl, Julie, but now I…I mean…”

“I understand,” she said quickly. “But you hate to leave your baby in an unmarked grave out in the middle of nowhere, without even a name. I’d be honored to have you carve my name on that wooden cross Thomas is making. Honored and pleased.”

Not trusting himself to speak, Myles nodded mutely.

Moments passed. There seemed to be nothing left to say.

Julie saw him first, hated realizing what Derek’s frantic waving at them from below had to mean. But Myles saw and leaped to his feet. They maneuvered their way down the rocks as quickly as they possibly could, and when they reached the ground they broke into a run.

Outside the wagon, Julie stepped into the protective circle of Derek’s arms. Myles started inside, then turned to her with beseeching eyes. “Bear it with me,” he implored. “Bear one more pain with me.”

Derek squeezed her lightly and released her, knowing she would.

Inside, they found Teresa lying very still, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Esther stood a few feet to the right, watching her. The baby was tucked snugly against Teresa. Sujen, hovering nearby, hastened to explain that she had awakened long enough to ask for the baby.

Julie reached down and took him from his mother’s weak arms and handed him to Sujen. “Leave us alone with her, please,” she commanded softly, praying that Esther would take the hint. She did.

When the two women had departed, Myles sank to his knees beside his wife and gently lifted her, rocking her softly against his heart. Taking a deep breath, he whispered, “It’s going to be all right, honey. You’re going to be fine, and so is our baby. We’re going to have a good life. I promise.” His voice broke on the word
promise
, then he rushed on, “I love you, Teresa. God knows how I love you.”

Her lips parted, moving soundlessly.

“Don’t try to talk,” Myles said, rocking her. “Save your strength, honey.”

“Seeds.” The word was barely audible. A crippled bird was struggling to sing one last note. “Seeds, Myles. Give them to me.”

Julie looked around frantically before finding the small package of flower seeds that Teresa treasured so dearly. She placed it in the frail hands and squeezed her fingers around the package.

“Here they are, darling…the flower seeds.”

A smile touched Teresa’s lips, and she mustered the last of her strength to hold the packet in her grasp. Her eyelids fluttered open, but her gaze was unfocused. “Plant them for me, Myles…” She gasped for breath, a slight rattling within her chest. “Plant these seeds…and when the wild flowers grow, think of me…and I will never die… Know I am always with you, loving you…and our son.”

Her head sank to one side. Lovingly, with all the feeling he had for her, Myles lifted her head to press his brow against hers. Teresa’s fingers went limp as he did so, and the package fell.

Julie quickly scooped up the package and turned away, no longer able to watch.

Derek came inside, sensing that it was time. He took Teresa from Myles’s arms, though Myles was not aware of it. Myles was somewhere else, in that mystic place the mind so wisely knows it can retreat to when we are past enduring any more.

A long while later, when she could speak, Julie showed Derek the flower seeds. “She’ll live in the flowers, Derek,” she told him vehemently. “We’ll plant the seeds when we get to Arizona, and when the flowers bloom, we’ll think of her. When the winds scatter the petals over the hills, the flowers will be born there, also. We’ll see those flowers and we’ll think of Teresa and how we loved her…how she loved us.”

Louella Bascomb tenderly held little Darrell Jerome Marshall in her arms and blinked back tears as she told Julie, “Of course I’ll nurse him. Teresa was such a sweet girl, and I thought so much of her. This is the least I can do.” Her voice was shaking.

“Do you think you’ll have enough milk for two babies?” Julie asked worriedly.

“I think so.” Louella nodded. She was determined that she would.

Julie thanked her. Touching her fingertips to her lips and pressing them against the sleeping infant’s forehead, she left, saying she would come by in the morning to see them. She walked over toward Myles’s wagon, stopping suddenly. There, against the wagon, stood her brother, head lowered. She knew the sheeted mound of Teresa’s body lay inside the wagon. Myles was hovering over it, protecting Teresa.

Julie turned and left him alone, glad it was so late. The others would not intrude on him, either. As she walked, the faint sound of shovels striking earth reached her, and she trembled uncontrollably. Teresa’s grave. Teresa, so warm and loving and full of life, and now it was all over.

She walked toward the supply wagon where Derek slept, and as she approached it a voice rasped, “Julie Marshall! My Lord, but you’re a willful, wanton thing! You had Derek out somewhere, groveling like a couple of dogs when I lost my baby. I hear you were doing the same thing when your sister-in-law was losing hers. Maybe she wouldn’t have died if you’d been there to look after her. Maybe—”

“Maybe it would be best if you didn’t say any more,” Julie said so softly Elisa almost couldn’t hear. And before Elisa could reply, Derek was there. Elisa flashed him a smile. “We’ll find time to talk about everything later, I’m sure.” Lifting her chin, she swished away. Julie shook her head and said, “Something snapped, Derek, and I damn near hit her.”

He nodded. “Come along now, and get some sleep. We’ve finished the grave. I saw Myles for a minute, and I figure it’s best to just let him be. Let’s go bed down near his wagon, in case he needs us during the night.

“Tomorrow,” he finished wearily, “is going to be a long day. And a sad one.”

Chapter Fifteen

At long last the wagon train crossed into the Arizona territory. The land was awesome; open vistas perhaps fifty miles away seemed close by. Bald mountains, reaching to over twelve thousand feet, screened the desert basin. It looked barren, but to those who had traveled so far for so long, it was hope. They were almost home.

The grasses of the plains swayed like precision dancers in the crisp spring wind. Chaparral and huge saguaro cacti grew near stands of Joshua trees.

It was twilight, and they were camped in a low basin, ten wagons circled around the common fire. Over the crackling flames, the men took turns twisting the
javelina
Derek had killed earlier. The pungent scent of succulent wild pig teased everyone’s appetite. Turkey, quail, and dove had been spotted several times, and now that spring was at hand and game was venturing forth, food would be abundant.

Derek sat on a rise, watching Julie near the fire, rocking Myles’s baby, cooing to him. He frowned. Myles had not gone near the baby since Teresa’s death. It worried Julie and Derek very much because the man was not coming out of his grief at all. He stayed to himself, lost in his own world. Julie even had to coax him to eat. At night, when the chores were done, Myles took his bedroll and climbed beneath his wagon, no matter how bad the weather was. If things did not change, Derek and Julie were going to have a ready-made family, because the care of little Darrell was falling on her.

Derek chewed on a sweet blade of grass, lost in thought, but not so preoccupied that he didn’t sense someone approaching him from behind. He knew it was Thomas, had seen him.

Thomas, however, could not be sure of that. He was not about to take a chance and slip up on Derek, so he called out. Derek waved him forward without turning about.

“This weather’s really something, huh?” Thomas said cheerily as he settled beside Derek. “If we don’t get any spring rain, we should have smooth traveling from here on in.”

“This is the desert,” Derek said flatly. “There won’t be any spring rain. And I wish I could share your confidence.”

Thomas was instantly sober. “I meant only the weather, Arnhardt. I know there’s still Indian danger.”

“Never more so than now.” Derek’s teeth were clamped tightly on the grass, and he spat it out and pointed into the distance. “That pass, it worries me, and we’re in the middle of Chiricahua country.”

“How far to Fort Bowie?”

“Two days’ ride to the north once we get through that pass. I’m thinking maybe we’ll forget the pass and keep heading west, toward Tucson. Bowie won’t give us an escort, not with hell breaking loose all over, and there’s no sense wasting our time going there. We’ve got enough supplies to see us through to Tucson.” He stood. “We’d better ride out to the pass and scout it tomorrow. We’ll camp here one more night, then head out. I’ll feel safer that way.”

Thomas understood. Once they rolled out, that was it. The wagons would be in the middle of open spaces, with no protection from attack. And once they entered the pass, they were sitting ducks for an ambush. Yes, it would be best to stay put another day and have a look around.

Derek looked at him thoughtfully and said, “You didn’t come up here to talk to me about the scenery, though. It’s Myles, isn’t it?”